Homeless Heart
by MyFrenzy
Summary: It was her fault. And she knew it. And because of her, he died too. And everything is left nowhere. DEPRESSING. Don't read if you don't like tragic stories. T for language. Death of characters. Oneshot.


_READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! I was ina depressing mood, and this is what came of it.  
I cried writing this. I am so terrible, but I swear, I don't think I'll write something like this for a long time.  
Reviews, good or bad, are welcome._

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_**Homeless Heart**_

The house was dead quiet. Tears threatening the eyes of the whole family. They were connected. Their hurt united as one. Making it worse.

Alex looked at the floor. She refused to let her tears out. She was Alex Russo—she would never cry. Never.

She had made that oath to herself a long time ago.

Teresa was wailing on her husband's shoulder. Jerry hugged her, trying to be strong. Tears were stinging at him too, but you could faintly notice them.

But in reality, the house was quiet. So quiet, in fact, that the soft pitter patter of the raindrops where heard on their roof…the roof being on the second floor.

Alex cleared her throat before excusing herself out to the terrace, where it was cold, dark and of course, raining. But Teresa was too upset to even acknowledge her daughter. And Jerry couldn't object, because that meant leaving Teresa.

Alex slid the door open and closed it again.

Her young—only—brother was sitting, letting the rain drench him, as he looked aimlessly at the sky.

Alex impassively walked towards her brother and sat next to him. Max didn't flinch at all—he just stayed looking at the sky.

Alex felt as if her heart had been torn out when she heard the news. At first, she stared at the floor for the longest time, and suddenly, she had ran up to her room to cry.

"_You're just a big idiot. Can't you trust me?!"  
"Who can trust you Alex?!"_

Alex's eyes shut tight, not permitting the tears to fall out. Her room suddenly felt empty, missing a big part of her life. Her eyes closed tightly as she screamed—loud, so loud the neighbors could hear—to her empty room, blaming it. Blaming it for always having to welcome him—and then throw him out. The scream had echoed to her family, but Teresa didn't do anything; she blamed Alex.

And Alex blamed herself.

"_I'm going," Alex hissed, pushing past her brother hard and walking towards the door.  
"The hell you're not, Alex!" He growled, trying to get pass her.  
"Fuck you!" Alex yelled at the top of her lungs. "Leave me the hell alone! I hate you and I don't need you!"_

Alex coughed, dismissing the tears she had welled up, and then let them well up again. Max glanced at her, his face unreadable. Alex had to look away, because she knew that even though Max didn't want to make her feel as horrible as she already did—he also blamed her.

That night—yesterday night—she remembered screaming at herself, cursing herself to eternity. And no one stopped her. Every light in her life seemed to disappear, every reason to smile and laugh just flew away from her reach. Sorrow, despair, angst—it was all in her heart. Bottled up tears and regrets for not hugging him more often—for not telling him how much she loved him, and how much she, yes, needed him. For not listening to what he had to say, ignoring his advice just to get the conversation over with.

For not being able to hold a civil conversation with him for over five minutes.

For blaming him for every bad thing that happened to her—and not thanking him for all the good things that he gave her.

"_Don't you dare follow me," Alex muttered as she got into her car and looked at the rearview mirror in the stormy night. Justin followed her out the door and stared at her car.  
For several seconds, he stayed put, and so did Alex. But when she started the engine, Justin started to run._

Her fists clenched. Fuck it, fuck it all. Why couldn't she have known better? Why not just listen to him? Why did this tugging and agitating feeling follow her around so much? Why did she miss his presence so much—so much she couldn't bare to even have Max's?

Max looked at Alex. "Don't," his voice was gruff and scratchy from tears.

With that one word, Alex knew everything Max meant; _Don't blame yourself. Don't think about why. Don't believe he's here. Don't try to contact him. Don't cry. Don't you dare look at me in the eye._

Alex wouldn't. She got up from her chair and went farther into the terrace, as the rain started falling harder. She heard the screeches of cars as the brakes contacted with the wet street.

_Justin ran after Alex's car.  
"Son of a bastard!" Alex shrieked. She sped up, but somehow, Justin always seemed to catch up. Alex made a right turn, almost colliding with another car, trying to lose Justin. But Justin only kept following her._

"_Shitshitshit! Leave!" Alex said, and turned left, again, trying to lose Justin._

_Just as Justin was about to turn left, Alex almost collided with a car for ending up on the wrong side of the street, so the car turned to the other side, and, losing control, turned to his right—where Justin was standing._

Her life wasn't worth it. She caused the death of her brother. The death that could've been prevented if she had all her senses on. But she decided to be stubborn—to be a fucking idiot who didn't know anything better but to rebel. Against everyone.

And now everyone hated her.

Justin's friends, her own family—Harper refused to talk to her.

She looked under her, where the ground seemed far. It looked so far, in fact, a fall to the ground would probably cause a death.

Max felt it. Max felt what her sister was about to do.

But he didn't stop her.

Alex had killed his only brother, and he blamed her. He didn't want her to think so, but he blamed her very much. So Max just watch as Alex took a deep breath, and dove head first onto the ground, free falling.

Max looked down at his feet, and for a moment, he felt numb.

The next day three funerals were held—Justin, Alex, and Max Russo. Teresa kept screaming to no one in particular it was all her fault. Her babies! She blamed all of them, took it out on them, and now all of them were gone.

Alex committed suicide, and Max had a stroke. A deadly one.

Jerry stayed mute. He never talked to anyone again, the sandwich shop was closed, and the two parents just stayed inside their house. Never making conversation, never making eye contact.

Justin, Alex, and Max Russo were all buried next to one another. They all cause something in each of their lives, but the bright side—the only bright side the parents ever thought of—was that they were together.

Who knows where, but wherever, they were side by side, taking care of their beloved parents.

And right they were.

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_Oh, God. I don't even know where the story went...this is so depressing for me. .  
Uhm...review? I think?_


End file.
